


Secrets: The Lost Chapters

by ScarlettSiren



Series: Blood and Won [3]
Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Assassins & Hitmen, Drabble Collection, M/M, See Chapter Notes for Specific Warnings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Warnings do not apply to all chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-02-18 21:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13108491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarlettSiren/pseuds/ScarlettSiren
Summary: A collection of Wontaek drabbles and mini-fics in the Blood and Won universe.





	1. Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays? I decided I can't be done with this pairing in this universe because I had SO MUCH still I wanted to do with them, but not enough to really put into a full narrative. So I'm going to keep this here as a collection of drabbles which I may add to occasionally. I will try to put approximate timeline indicators on each so you can plug these in where they fit in the series in your mind. Most take place between the fics, but some will be peppered throughout. These will not be in chronological order! So please check the notes on each chapter for when it takes place!
> 
> For reference:  
> The Secrets We Keep Timeline:  
> Begins September 2017, skips to mid-November, ends February 16th 2018  
> The Ones We Protect Timeline:  
> Begins end of November 2018, has a small timeskip, ends February 2nd, 2019
> 
> If you have a request/prompt for this universe, feel free to leave it in the comments or message it to my on my tumblr, thescarlettfangirl. You can also tweet me @NecroticNymph if that's more your fancy. If I like it, I'll write it! Doesn't have to be Wontaek, it can involve the other characters as well.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ravi discovers when Taekwoon’s birthday is. But what do you get for the man who seemingly has everything?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place between Secrets and its sequel, a few weeks before the sequel begins.

In the days following Halloween, Ravi and Taekwoon were relaxing on the couch in the evening as they so often did. Taekwoon was reading, something in Russian judging by the cover. His legs were propped up on the coffee table, Ravi lying across the sofa with his head resting in the older man’s lap. He was swiping through his phone, trying to clear out a bit of storage by deleting duplicate and blurry photos. He smiled fondly when he got to the pictures from the Japan trip, most of which were selcas of him looking more than excited with Taekwoon behind him, sometimes not even looking at the camera. They had gotten one decent photo taken of them by a local, thankfully, and it had turned out rather well. He emailed it to himself as a reminder to get it printed.

“Japan was a pretty nice birthday gift, even if it was a couple months late.” He said, grinning as he tabbed through the pictures. “Don’t know how you’re gonna top it next year.”

“Mm, I’ll think of something.” Taekwoon assured, not looking up, or rather, down, from his book.

“Huh, that reminds me. I have no earthly idea when your birthday is.” Ravi added, the thought suddenly occurring to him.

“It’s coming up, actually.” Taekwoon answered. “November tenth. But you don't need to concern yourself over it.”

“Don't need to concern—” Ravi let out a huff, sitting up and yanking the other’s book down, too violently. “Taek, you're the only person I have in this world. I'm allowed to _concern myself_ about your goddamn birthday.”

As Taekwoon looked at him, incredulous at first, his eyes went soft around the edges in that way that was reserved only for Ravi, his lips curling into a fond smile. “Fine. Concern yourself with it as much as you wish. You can even bake me a cake, if that’s what you want.”

“Maybe I will!” Ravi huffed in indignance. “Maybe I'll even… put streamers up. With Balloons. And a big banner! I'll make Butt wear a hat.”

Taekwoon huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Anything you please. I have no preference on how I spend my birthday, so long as it's with you.”

“Okay, listen, I’m going to need you to take the cheese and dial it down, because it's at about an eleven.” Ravi quipped.

Taekwoon shrugged. “You chose this. You can opt out at any time.”

Ravi just snorted. “Yeah, not on your fucking life.”

***

Ravi may have been glad to finally know when Taekwoon’s birthday was, but he was also quickly becoming astronomically stressed over it. He had no earthly idea what to get Taekwoon. What did one buy a man who literally had everything? He had plenty of records, art, books, tech… _everything_. He wasn't the kind of man who collected a lot of unnecessary things. What little decor his home did have spoke to his old soul and his minimalist nature.

He had to have spent hours browsing the web, trolling for ideas. He'd lost count of how many “top gift ideas for the picky men in your life” articles he'd scrolled through. Each was as unhelpful as the last.

Ravi decided that his current strategy was simply not working, and closed his laptop in frustration. He didn't need to get Taekwoon a fancy robe or some new gadget. Not only was he completely covered in that regard already, but they all seemed like meaningless trinkets. The gifts he'd gotten Ravi on his trips… _jobs_ … had been thoughtful and personal. He couldn't even begin to imagine what he could possibly buy to remotely return the favor.

Over the next several days, Ravi locked himself in Taekwoon’s office library. The older man let him be, (rightly) assuming he was scheming birthday surprises and therefore resolving not to pry. Butt was inconsolable, going to the door and scratching at it every half-hour, feeling dejected. He had his own bed in the studio for when Ravi was recording, but he’d been banned from the office after chewing some of Taekwoon’s favorite books which were on a bottom shelf. The older man tried to placate Butt, keep him busy… however, it was quite clear their dog only had eyes for Ravi.

One could learn a lot about a person by the books they kept. Ravi had read many of the Korean volumes, but as Taekwoon understood ten languages, that was but a fraction of his collection. He came across several interesting finds under the English section which he had never noticed; well-preserved first editions of several of Burroughs's novels, as well as some other literary classics. With a bit of Google translate and the Amazon scanning option, he discovered that Taekwoon had six copies of Sun-Tzu’s _The Art of War_ ; one in the original Chinese, the first French translation from the 1700’s, one in Korean, and three different editions in English. It appeared to be the only in his collection he had quite so many versions of, and the only he had more than three copies of that wasn't a holy text.

It took him a bit of internet search magic, but he eventually found the perfect gift, and rushed the shipping to ensure it would get to him on time. He was proud to be able to use the money he'd earned from his YouTube revenue, not dipping into Taekwoon’s accounts or the salary he earned from the Foundation. This was truly from him.

***

The day had finally arrived and Ravi was a nervous wreck. He flitted about the kitchen working on a cake, which he insisted on making from scratch, even though he was horrible at baking (cooking was nothing like baking, he'd explained earlier to Taekwoon, who could not understand how someone so comfortable with cooking could hardly bake to save his life). Taekwoon’s gift sat just inside his studio under the desk, wrapped in elegant black paper.

Ravi cringed when he dropped another of his tin measuring cups, the thing clattering loudly across the floor. He peeked over at Taekwoon, sitting at the couch in the living room and dutifully attempting not to look away from the television screen.

“I am trying not to offer my assistance, as you requested, but you make it rather difficult when you keep sounding as though you need it.” The former hitman called out, though he never looked over his shoulder.

“I'm fine! It’s almost done.” Ravi lied, pouting as he rinsed off the measuring cup. At least Taekwoon had managed to wrangle the dog, holding the brat hostage in his lap until he'd dozed off. It was much easier to work in the kitchen when Butt wasn't trotting around under his feet.

True to his word, Taekwoon didn't interfere. It wasn't until Ravi had set everything out, cleaned the kitchen, retrieved the gift and went to go fetch him that he finally stood from the couch.

“Go sit at the table.” Ravi directed, motioning with an arm.

Taekwoon chuckled, but complied, walking over to the dining area. He detoured into the kitchen to turn off the oven, which apparently Ravi had forgotten to do in his haste. The younger man turned beet red and went to go grab the candles.

“Just please don't sing for me.” Taekwoon teased as he sat at the head of the table while Ravi lit a cluster of black candles at the center of his small, simple yet elegant cake.

Just to spite him, Ravi mumble-sang the first few bars of the birthday song as he finished up the candles. Once they were all lit, he sat down and raised an eyebrow.

“Make a wish.”

“I don't have anything to wish for.” Taekwoon admitted plainly.

Ravi sighed, rolling his eyes. “I swear to god I'll return your cliché ass. I kept the receipt. Make a goddamn wish, it's tradition.”

Taekwoon just chuckled and paused for a fraction of a moment before blowing out his candles. Ravi smiled in satisfaction, picking them out and sucking them clean.

“Well it looks delicious, anyway… what flavor is it?” Taekwoon asked as the other man cut a slice with two perfectly-preserved dollops of brown icing on top. When he pulled it away, the center was visibly a pale brown.

“Coffee cake.” Ravi told him in a proud tone.

“Mm, a man after my own heart.” Taekwoon grinned.

“All right, before we stuff our faces with cake, how about you open your gift?” Ravi said, moving the cake aside to make room for him to slide the box over. Taekwoon set his fork down agreeably.

“All right… it's not another dog, is it?” Taekwoon teased, smirking at the other man as he pulled the box closer. It was quite heavy, which piqued his interest.

“No, it's not a dog.” Ravi huffed, rolling his eyes. He was soon gnawing at his own lip, however, as he watched Taekwoon deftly undo the wrapping paper. He'd redone it three times to make sure the lines weren't wonky.

By the time Taekwoon had removed the paper, revealing the cardboard underneath, his lip was nearly bleeding. When the other man opened the cardboard box to find the only slightly smaller wooden box within, he was wringing his hands under the table. As Taekwoon lifted the dark, elegantly-polished case from it, moving the cardboard aside to set it on the table, he'd almost burst from the pressure.

Taekwoon glanced over in curiosity before he undid the latch, opening the lid. He stared for several long seconds, lips parted, brow just slightly furrowed.

Ravi let out a breath. “I don't know if you—”

“Oh my god.”

The exclamation had actually been mumbled softly, but it still stopped Ravi dead. He'd never heard Taekwoon express anything remotely close to surprise before.

“You… know what it is?” Ravi asked quietly. He hadn't even unrolled it yet.

Sitting in the box, nestled in soft red satin, was a bundle of dark-colored wood and a matching display stand. Foreign characters decorated the wooden strips, held together with crimson twine.

“A replica of Sun-Tzu’s _The Art of War_ , in the original Chinese, written upon bamboo slats, just as the initial chapters were.” Taekwoon said, sounding a little breathless. “Ravi, this is…”

Taekwoon had lifted the rolled-up mat from the box gingerly, running his fingers over the slats. The wood had been stained to appear aged, but it had a perfectly polished sheen to it.

“I noticed you had like… six copies of the book, so you probably didn't need a seventh, but it's more of a display piece…” Ravi mumbled, realizing too late he was rambling.

“No, it's. Ravi, it's beautiful. I’m sorry, I… I honestly can't remember the last time I received a gift, let alone one so thoughtful. I don't know what to say.” Taekwoon stammered. The younger man had never seen the other so speechless. Pride bloomed in his chest.

“You don't have to say anything.” Ravi told him softly, smiling as he repeated the words he'd heard from the other so many times.

Taekwoon’s stunned expression changed, then, to a fond one, and he set the gift down before leaning in to kiss him gently with a quiet “thank you”.

The gift ended up proudly displayed as a centerpiece on one of his bookshelves, the one directly in the sight line of his desk, some of his less-important volumes going into storage in the closet to make room. That evening, Ravi even managed to make the dog wear a ridiculous cone-shaped hat long enough for Ravi to take a picture, and as they enjoyed cake and coffee and a movie of Taekwoon’s choosing (the televised special of Mata-Hari, one of his favorite musicals), he could not help but think this had been his best birthday yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not responsible for your dental bills, sorry.


	2. Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ravi runs into an old john, Taekwoon does not react well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn’t have a specific spot really in the timeline, but I’ll go ahead and place it just after the end of the sequel (The Ones We Protect) for clarity.
> 
> I wrote this trying to force myself back into the writing habit by working on something short when Writer’s Block kicked my butt. This chapter is pretty heavy, so PLEASE read the warnings below!!
> 
> ***WARNINGS: Attempted sexual assault, alcohol, mentions of drug use, mention of gay-bashing (non-detailed), visual mentions of past sex work and abuse, use of a date rape drug, murder

The din of the familiar club eddied around Ravi, the sultry mood settling upon his shoulders like a wet blanket. Everything about being here made him uncomfortable. The music was too loud, the bass thumping through his chest, pounding in his head. Smoke burned in his throat, and the scent of cheap whiskey had his stomach roiling, recalling so many nights of drinking just a little too much, spending an entire evening choking on the taste of it, until he could do nothing but hate it.

Ravi was beginning to think this was a bad idea. Most of the guys he knew had gotten out of the life… which meant that he was fishing for strangers… strangers who probably would have spit in his face at an offer for help, no matter how well-intentioned. Not everyone hated the life. Not everyone was desperately seeking to get out of it. He respected it, but there was also that part of him that pulled at him to go, just help one more person, one more person who _didn't_ want that life, so they wouldn’t end up like he could have been: starving and frozen in the street.

He’d been saved from that fate by Taekwoon… beautiful, understanding Taekwoon, who didn’t pry when he insisted on going out late in the evening on his own to ‘do some work for the Foundation’, not a lie but entirely unbelievable regardless. His clothes had been too casually-sharp, and he returned knowing he smelled of smoke and booze. The last few times he’d gone, it had been fruitless… so he hadn’t bothered coming clean to Taekwoon about just what exactly he was doing on these late nights.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Taekwoon to come along… it was just that he didn’t want Taekwoon to see places like this; the kinds of places he once frequented, wearing thin shirts and too much eyeliner and high out of his goddamn mind, just to give himself the confidence to throw himself at his next would-be john. He could already see the shadows of himself here; the times when he would press himself against a complete stranger in a darkened corner, or sneak out the side door into the alley before falling to his knees… he wasn’t ashamed of the work, but he didn’t exactly have fond memories of it, either. Quite the opposite.

He found himself tabbing boredly through his phone in between slow drags of his drink. Finally, he pulled up the texting app. He remembered a time when Taekwoon was the only contact there, initially only labeled as “Leo”. Now it was his real name there on his screen, framed in hearts because he was a mushy, unashamed romantic, there atop a long list of other text conversations. Lyn, who so often messaged him about he Foundation, Hyuk and Hongbin, whom he actually shared a group chat with which primarily consisted of them sending pictures of cute dogs to each other, along with a block of several near-strangers he’d met through the Foundation, their names labeled with reminders of who they were or where he’d met them. Ken was somewhere near the bottom, since he only ever texted to ask how his recovery was coming, and N was not far below, as their last conversation had been regarding the Lunar New Year party (something about wine, he thought… perhaps he’d asked if they preferred white or red.)

He clicked on Taekwoon’s conversation and fondly read through their last interaction, which had only consisted of Ravi asking the other man to pick up dog food because he’d forgotten to put it on the grocery list. Taekwoon’s reply had been assurance that he’d already picked some up and a simple ‘love you’ along with a promise to return home soon. It was entirely domestic and Ravi lived for it. He never would have even dreamed of having a life like this, not when most of his nights had been spent in places like this godforsaken club, hyping himself up to do what he had to do just to earn his next meal.

Ravi typed out a message, sending it before he could think better of it.

_’Miss you. Hope your evening is turning out more productive than mine.’_

It was under a minute later when the response came through. Taekwoon always had his phone on him, so it wasn’t surprising, but it certainly did wonders for Ravi’s nerves.

_’My productivity plummeted when your dog decided my lap was the only place he could be consoled in your absence. You know he’s incorrigible when you aren’t around.’_

Ravi snorted as he wrote his reply. _’He must get the crippling codependency from me, sorry.’_

_’Can’t say I dislike feeling needed, so no apology necessary. Feeling particularly in want of my company?’_

And if that wasn’t the understatement of the year. Ravi couldn’t get enough of being around Taekwoon. He resisted the urge to admit as much, his reply much more reasonable.

_’Guess I’m just starting to regret not having you here.’_

_’You know I’ll join you if you ask, whatever it is. But I understand if it’s something you need to do alone.’_

Perfect, understanding Taekwoon. Ravi asked himself again what he did to deserve this man. Maybe everything he was trying to do, all the good and the charity, was his unconscious way of trying to balance the karmic scale.

_’This plan went much better in my head than it’s panning out. I wouldn’t hate the company.’_

Ravi dropped a pin with his location, then dropped his phone onto the bar with a long sigh. He couldn’t bring himself to ask directly… it was two in the morning and Taekwoon didn’t even know what he was signing up for. It was, frankly, unreasonable to ask for the other to join him. And yet, seconds later, Taekwoon’s reply appeared.

_’On my way.’_

He supposed he didn’t expect anything less… but part of him wished Taekwoon would learn to deny him every once in a while. He had come from too humble a life to possibly let it go to his head, but he would have been lying if he told himself he’d never even dream of taking advantage of Taekwoon’s accommodating nature.

Ravi cleared the notification and pocketed his phone, picking up his beer again and finishing it off. He used to knock on people who only drank beer, always having stuck to hard liquor himself… but nowadays beer was the only alcohol he could stomach without feeling nauseous.

Ravi slid off his stool, pushing away from the bar to head for the bathroom. He hadn’t made it a single step before a familiar, leering tone cut through the noise and caught his attention.

“Now there’s an ass I haven’t seen for a long time.”

Ravi felt the hair at the back of his neck stand on end, his spine going rigid. It was incredible how much power a voice held… with just a single sentence, Ravi was suddenly flooded with memories, vivid images of dim alleys and filthy motel rooms, unable to help but recall the sting of a calloused hand brought down too harshly upon his ass, of fingers too tightly clenching in his hair. He could feel the ache in his scalp as he shivered, pushing the thoughts away. It was a lifetime ago.

“Ravi! Thought you’d dropped off the face of the earth.”

He turned to see a ghost from his past in the form of a man whose name he’d never bothered to learn. He was sure he’d assigned him a nasty nickname or two in his mind, not so kind as the ones in his phone. Instead of a fond memory of meaningful conversation at a charity gala or community event, he could only remember this man as “Rough Alley Guy” or “Pushy Drunk Asshole”.

“Afraid not.” Ravi managed to reply, his voice rough as sandpaper and barely managing not to crack.

“I'll admit, I didn't think you were even around anymore.”

There was something in his tone that made it clear he was not inferring he believed Ravi had moved. It wasn't uncommon for people in his former line of work to end up the victim of an overdose or gay-bashed, so while the implication wasn't entirely off-base, it still made him cringe.

“Nope, still around…” Ravi replied uncomfortably, for lack of anything else to say. He didn't exactly want to get into why he was there… he was sure the guy wouldn't take kindly to someone trying to limit his selection.

“You look good. Thicker. Been working out?” The question was topped off with a leering stare, his eyes tracking Ravi’s entire body from top to bottom and back again.

Ravi swallowed a lurch, making a face. He had been, but he’d also been eating more than one meal every two days, which was why he’d managed to gain muscle. “Uh, yeah, I guess.”

The man raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Still know how to have a good time?”

Ravi felt his jaw clench as he gritted his teeth just to stop himself from saying anything too combative. He remembered this guy having a temper, and he didn’t really feel like making a scene. “I don't… do that anymore.”

“Oh, what, you too good for us, now?” He quipped icily.

Ravi bristled, offended at the notion. “It's nothing like that, I'm just—”

“Turned over a new leaf? Found religion?” The man spat in a mocking tone, glancing at his left hand. “Got yourself a beard?”

Ravi huffed. “I just don’t do that anymore.”

“All right, all right.” The man quelled, making a gesture of surrender before shoving his hands into his pockets.

After a few seconds of too-awkward silence, he stepped up to the bar next to Ravi and tapped on the counter. He motioned to the other man’s beer, then held up two fingers. The bartender returned seconds later with two fresh bottles, caps-off.

Taking them by the neck, the man turned and offered one to Ravi.

“Well, have a drink on me anyway… for old time’s sake.”

Ravi’s teeth worried at the inside of his own cheek. “I'm not really—”

“C’mon, you used to be so _obedient_.” The man hissed, and Ravi felt anger boiling under his skin, though it was accompanied with a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach that left him tasting bile. The beer was thrust into his hand, and he took a swig just to wash the taste away. He tasted the tang of salt, and he wondered if he’d bit too hard at his own cheek and managed to break the skin, though it didn’t sting.

Ravi busied himself with finishing his drink, because the sooner he did, the sooner he could excuse himself to the restrooms and pray this asshole got the hint and didn’t follow.

“You know, now that I think about it, I haven’t seen much of your crew around at all in a while.” The guy said, making too-casual conversation for just how stressed Ravi was.

“Yeah, well, like I said… we don’t really do that anymore.” Ravi muttered, focused on downing the last of his drink.

The guy kept talking to him about inane shit, and Ravi wanted to be anywhere but there. He knew Taekwoon was coming, but he couldn’t possibly get there soon enough. Finally, when the guy shut his mouth for more than three consecutive seconds, Ravi cleared his throat.

“Oh, I guess I finished this quicker than I intended.” He lied, motioning to his beer. “I’m gonna… run to the restroom real quick.”

“Here, let me.” The guy offered, taking the empty bottle as Ravi passed him. He offered a leering little grin that made Ravi shiver.

Thankfully, he wasn’t followed into the restroom. Ravi just stood in the stall for several long minutes, too long… completely unbothered by the wall shaking next to him, the sounds of belt buckles jingling, of messy kisses and hurried huffs of breath. It seemed as though whoever was in the stall next to him was enjoying themselves.

He scrubbed his face as he left the stall, going to the mirror. He wiped the eyeliner from his face, a shitty attempt at trying to pass as someone who still belonged here, who could be trusted to not be an outsider. It smudged a little, but didn’t come off fully. He huffed in irritation, leaving it how it was. He couldn’t care.

When he emerged from the bathroom, the shift in lighting and bright strobes hit him harder than they should have, the blaring music dazing him. He suddenly felt disoriented… unusually so. He had been trying to sneak his way out, trying to avoid that god-awful man from his past, but now he was just struggling to stand, his hand going to the wall as he moved further toward the back of the club just for some relief from the noise.

It only got worse, however… the neon lights blurring into an amalgam of color and sound, the bass of the club speakers pounding in his head. He spotted a glint of red, and stark white… the back exit. He made for it, looking for an escape, but he stumbled again, falling into someone.

“Hey, easy there… you must’ve been outta the game too long if you can’t hold your liquor anymore.” The man drawled in an overly-helpful tone around a knowing smirk. It was him, that asshole, and of _course_ , how had he been so stupid? How had he let the man hand him a drink, an open drink, when he knew the guy was a piece of shit. It was rule number one, and he’d broken it.

Ravi felt his heart hammer faster in his chest, as though it were trying to claw its way out of his rib cage. His vision swam again, his equilibrium shifting as if someone had tilted the world beneath him off its axis. He was being pushed, pulled, dragged, and suddenly the world was quieter, the air cooler, and he felt his back hit cold brick, felt the weight of that stranger press against his chest.

“You know, it’s not as fun like this, but I don’t mind.” The man drawled, and Ravi felt as though he had a hundred, a thousand hands on him, pushing up his shirt, tugging at his belt, grabbing at his neck to tilt his head as it drooped to one side. He felt weak, so weak, his arms like lead when he tried to lift them, tried to force the man away, tried to fight… but he couldn’t.

He didn’t know how much time passed. It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours. But something cut through the dull thump of the bass through brick walls… the slam of a door, and then a single word, crystal clear.

“Ravi?”

Ravi would know that voice anywhere. Every instinct told him to run to him, run to Taekwoon, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. He caught sight of him there in the alley, gorgeous and menacing all at once. His face was impassive, but his stance was rigid, his entire body coiled like a snake ready to strike.

Ravi wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, but it almost seemed to him that Taekwoon stopped there in the middle of the alley, cocking his head and watching him for just a brief moment. His expression was stoic, but there was a coldness in his eyes that terrified him.

His head lolled a little as he tried to look past the asshole’s shoulder to his fiancé, palms still pushing uselessly against the guy’s chest. He was forced to blink a few times, eyelids fluttering dazedly when his vision warbled. Everything was so chaotic despite the calm quiet of the alley. He just wanted the earth to stop spinning. He managed a single, slurred syllable.

“Taek—” 

The coldness in Taekwoon’s gaze turned to fury, and suddenly, the weight being pressed against Ravi’s body was gone. He slumped against the cold brick behind him, his knees giving out until his ass hit the floor. He felt his eyelids fall with him, struggling to open them. He heard a scuffle, a sickening crack, and then he was looking up at Taekwoon, who had knelt before him and taken his face into his hand, nothing but pained concern upon his own.

He felt arms under him, he felt himself float up from the ground, and then he felt nothing at all.

***

Moments floated back to Ravi in disjointed segments. He remembered being in a car. He remembered Taekwoon next to him, hissing into his phone. He remembered being lifted out of the car, remembered meeting the softness of their bed. He remembered being asked to drink something, Taekwoon’s honeyed voice begging him to swallow… and he did. He would have gorged himself on whatever it was to hear those praises, the way Taekwoon so sweetly thanked him, told him he had done well, kissed his temple and cradled him before his memories got hazy again.

The next thing he remembered, he was sitting on cold tile, emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. It was morning; sunlight was illuminating the windows, and the lights were not even on. He groaned while Taekwoon rubbed his back, slow and soothing.

He ended up back in bed again, but it wasn’t long until he returned to the bathroom, his stomach protesting whatever it had been given. The second time, he felt much less dizzy… much more aware of his surroundings. His head was pounding, and he must have blearily asked for an aspirin, because Taekwoon refused him.

“I had you drink activated charcoal. You’ll need to wait a bit before taking any medications. Here.” Taekwoon moved behind him, his fingers expertly finding several pressure-points at his neck to help ease the pain in his head.

After a long moment, Ravi looked back, and he probably looked like hell, but Taekwoon smiled at him anyway… and he couldn’t help but return it.

“Thanks for… last night. I don’t… remember everything. But I know you were there.”

Taekwoon nodded. “That man drugged you. I didn’t see you in the club, but I asked around and someone had spotted you leave out the back with someone.”

Ravi felt himself go rigid just thinking about it. “Yeah, I… saw you there in the alley and… I don’t know, I thought I was imagining it, because you hesitated, and—” 

“I didn’t hesitate. I took pause.” Taekwoon explained. “I wanted to ensure you hadn’t actually consented to it.”

Ravi felt bile roiling in his stomach again at the very implication. “What? I wouldn’t _ever_ betray you.”

“I’m not implying that you would, but I don’t own you, Ravi. If it was something you wanted, far be it from me to stop you.”

Ravi let out a breathless little sound. “You… but. Wouldn’t you… be mad?”

“Some part of me might feel that I was failing to provide everything you needed, but I understand that some people are not satisfied with being monogamous, and I could learn to respect that.” Taekwoon admitted.

“You’re basically saying you’d be fine with me cheating on you.” Ravi deadpanned.

“What I’m saying is that if you ever felt there was something I could not give you, something you needed from someone else… I would entertain the idea, and I wouldn’t be angry, nor would I feel betrayed.”

Ravi stared at him for a long while, doing little more than blinking. His brain was performing too sluggishly to keep up with every thought that was crossing it now. It was several seconds before he spoke again, cautious.

“And you… would you expect me to feel the same? If you needed—“

“No.” Taekwoon cut him off, tone somewhat cold but the look in his eyes earnest. “I will never need anything else but you.”

Ravi let out a breath, exasperated. “Well neither will I. Especially from someone like that prick.”

“Then why were you there?” Taekwoon asked, his tone too-gentle.

“I was… looking for someone.” Ravi replied, struggling to find the words.

“An old friend?”

“Maybe. Not anyone specific. I just… people like me. Who did what I used to do.” Ravi told him. “Anyone.”

“At the risk of sounding like I'm berating you… what were you thinking?” Taekwoon asked softly, careful to keep any anger out of his tone. It was eerie how gentle his voice was despite the obvious maelstrom of emotions buzzing under his skin.

“Outreach.” Ravi answered in a thready voice, looking up at him with a pathetic expression. “I just… they're not going to come to us every time, you know. People who do what I did. They may not even know the Foundation exists. So, I went looking. I was so focused on looking for people like me that I forgot there would be just as many johns looking, too.”

“That john went looking for the wrong one.” Taekwoon murmured bitterly.

Ravi suddenly donned a look of sheer dread. “What did you do to him?”

“What do you think I did, Ravi? I killed him.” Taekwoon replied as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He drugged you. He tried to force himself on you. God knows what else he might have done if I hadn't gotten there when I did.”

“You… killed him?”

“I toppled an entire mafia regime to get to you. Are you really shocked I would kill one random peon in the street?” Taekwoon asked.

“Taek…” Ravi chided. “You can't just… kill people because they came off to me or something.”

“Not to sound dramatic but you should know well enough by now that I would kill the entire population of Hong Kong if it meant your safety.” Taekwoon deadpanned.

“There's no time or place, in any context, where that _isn't_ dramatic.” Ravi bit back petulantly.

“Regardless, I stand by it.” Taekwoon told him. “And in this case, I assure you he won't be missed.”

“You can't know that. These johns, sure a lot of them are the scum of the earth, but some of them have wives… families…. kids.” Ravi’s voice broke on the last word, and he swallowed.

“You don’t need to concern yourself with any of that.” Taekwoon assured, rubbing the other’s back gently.

Ravi leaned back from the toilet, resting his head against the wall. Taekwoon moved his hand away, grabbing a washcloth and getting it wet in the sink before kneeling in front of the other, wiping his mouth. The rag felt pleasantly warm. Taekwoon handed him a glass of water, and part of him wanted to refuse it, but he decided to pick his battles and drank half of it without argument.

“I guess it’s easier for me not to care about who you’re killing when I don’t know them personally.” Ravi admitted, setting the glass aside and huffing pathetically. He squeezed his eyes closed, the lights in the bathroom causing his head to ache. “When the Italians kidnapped me… y’know, that was life or death. It was easier to accept.”

“ _This_ was life or death.” Taekwoon murmured, closing the distance between them. He let his right hand slip over Ravi’s side, just over the small bundle of scar tissue that lay beneath his shirt. Though it wasn’t visible through the fabric, he knew precisely where it was. His fingers skirted gently across the area above his eighth rib, where just beneath the flesh and sinew, metal screws held his bones in place… a constant reminder of Taekwoon’s failure to protect him. “I almost lost you once. I’ll be damned if I let it happen again.”

Ravi opened one eye, his expression softening. He let out a breath of resignation, pressing forward until he was crawling into the other’s lap, his head settling there as his arms wrapped around Taekwoon’s waist. “Y’won’t lose me. M’sorry for going off on my own to do stupid shit like that.”

“Nothing you were trying to do was stupid.” Taekwoon chided, his hands petting soothingly across the other’s shoulders. “I know you want to reach people who are in the same position you were in. I know that it’s not always as simple as handing out pamphlets and putting out flyers. I understand that you want to reach them in a more personal way. We can try to find ways to do that which don’t involve you going pseudo-undercover at your old dives and risking another incident like last night’s.”

Ravi sighed, nodding. “Okay. Thanks for not… freaking out.”

“Reacting like that wouldn’t resolve anything.” Taekwoon explained, too-calmly. “But don’t mistake my demeanor for apathy, or even acceptance. I’m not angry with you, but I was angry with that… _cretin_. Had I the time and presence of mind, I wouldn’t have made his death so quick, in hindsight.”

Ravi stiffened a little in his arms. It was several beats before he spoke again, quietly. “I know he… did some shitty stuff, but… you only see one side of people, in places like that. If you met me back then, the way I was, I wasn’t anything like—”

“Ravi, that man was suspected in the murder of four sex workers over the last three years.” Taekwoon cut him off, his tone blunt.

Ravi bolted up, blinking at him. “Wh-what?”

“After I killed him and got you into the car, I called Hongbin for damage control. Scrubbing nearby traffic cameras, running a background check on the victim before I called in my cleaners, just in case he had any geondal ties.” Taekwoon explained. “No mob connections, but he was the prime suspect in the disappearances of several local sex workers. What Hongbin managed to find was… disturbing. Instead of a usual cleanup, he recommended the crew stage a crime scene and make it look like he was killed in retribution. It’ll end up as just another unsolved case, but the streets are safer with him gone. You shouldn’t feel guilt over it.”

“He… killed...” Ravi glowered at Taekwoon, accusatory. “Is this your way of absolving me? Making some shit up about a guy so I don’t have to feel like you killed him over some trivial bullshit—?”

“What exactly is trivial about having drugged you?” Taekwoon hissed, his tone suddenly icy, almost dangerous. He pulled out his phone, tabbing through several password-protected apps before bringing up a file he had been emailed by Hongbin. He shoved it roughly into Ravi’s hand. “It’s all here, if you don’t believe me. The media coverage, private police files, everything. Though I hardly think I should have to justify killing someone who drugged you and attempted to rape—and potentially kill—you, but I can see you’re taking this rather hard.”

Ravi blearily skimmed the files, but it just made him feel ill again. How could he feel both better and worse at the same time? After a long moment, he let his hand drop into his lap, the phone along with it.

“I’m… sorry. I just. I’m shit at this. I’m shit at being a hitman’s boyfriend, aren’t I? Always getting myself into trouble, making you bail me out.” He laughed, raw and humorless. “I… thank you, for coming for me. Again.”

“I’ll always come for you, Ravi.” Taekwoon told him, as though it were nothing at all… but Ravi knew what power that statement held. He could have bet his life upon it.

Ravi burrowed his way into Taekwoon’s lap, hugging at this midsection and letting his face rest on the other’s thigh. Taekwoon let him, tangling a hand into his hair and petting his temple soothingly.

“I love you.” Ravi murmured, and it felt so inadequate, it felt like so little next to what Taekwoon had done for him, time and time again. But it was all he had to give, so he intended to give all that he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my best to make this read as sex work-positive despite that Ravi isn't himself a fan of the life and fell into it in desperation (and left it due to abuse). He makes for a jaded narrator but I tried to work with it as best I could. Sex work is not inherently awful, it's not a desperate last resort for everyone, and it's not something everyone needs to be “rescued” from. This has been a PSA~


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